The Snow Keep

The heavy metal door to the cell crashed open and two armed guards entered. Arya cowered on the cot as the first man yanked the rough grey blanket from her grasp. "Get up, whore," he growled, but the look in his eyes made her retreat further, pressing her back against the cold cinder block wall, painfully aware of her near nakedness. Both mens' eyes roamed over her pink lingerie, taking in her full breasts spilling over the demi-cup bra, rosy nipples peeking through the sheer fabric. Terrified, she followed their eyes lower to her tiny G-string, understanding now that nothing more than a scrap of fabric protected her from these rough looking men. Her garters now held up ruined stockings, mud splattered and shredded from her flight through the grounds. This was all she had now. Everything else had been taken from her.   "I said GET UP!" he yelled, looking over his shoulder at the second guard. "Watch the door. I'm going first." The other man no...

The guards hadn't come to torture him today. Maybe they were finally getting tired of administering their useless tactics or they were freaked out by Ramsay's candid demeanor and willingness to embrace the pain and ask for more. He chuckled to himself in the darkness, white predatory teeth flashing at the surveillance cameras, ignoring the death metal music his Father's guards had been blasting into the holding cell for hours. Perhaps they think they can break me like some common terrorist… Bunch of amateurs. I will show them all true terror once I'm free. Ramsay smirked, picking at the dried blood upon his skin where their sharp blades had sliced into his flesh, seeking to make the Bastard of Bolton suffer for his attack upon their leader, Roose Bolton. Time and time again, their petty revenge was etched upon Ramsay's body, leaving him covered with bruises, welts and cuts, yet nothing broke the Bastard's mind. He never showed fear in response to any of thei...